Podcast by RYK
Night walks in Roppongi Raindrops surround me Puddles gather glisten All is quiet listen Peace and Zen around me Rid these demons in me Took too long to walk these streets These lovely streets, Roppongi Thankful, grateful Blessed indeed My heart and soul relieved Thank you Lord and to the Gods My Heart My Heart Roppongi
Pray Do Tell The wind may be unforgiving The cold unrelenting Yet know that you are loved and highly cherished Pray Do Tell Your Grace Your Grace Many are broken, Shut off and helpless But there always will be a path A path towards the light Towards salvation Pray Do Tell.
May the brave step forward May the meek inherit the earth May the lamb sit amongst beasts unharmed Maybe May the proud fall May the quiet whispers reign May we rest our sword May we unite in peace No tension At ease Maybe May we Pray May we delay May we learn to be unselfish Eventually One day One day Maybe
A Heavy Fever A Strange Dream A thing occurs to a man when held against his will Memories of old abound Faces and places Warm embraces A cold winter A hot summer Silent walks Hidden alcoves Laughter of children from afar Open joy A Heavy Fever A Strange Dream
Pray to the Lord Pray to the gods Taste of home Burrow your Han May this nourish your heart May this heal your soul Ceremony me For whom the bell tolls Sweet land bounty New world awaits Pray away your fears Embrace your fate This land is yours High and mighty Ceremony me Ceremony plenty
Heavy is the heart of my forefathers Heavy was their pain, their struggles Not able Not able Heavy is the load I carry Sins of my Father His secrets, his struggles Woman of the north Reveal your stories Dive deep into the sea Dive away from misery Land of my father, land of my mother Pour me a spell of your milky drink Somber hearts relieved Freedom soon come, This you will see And this heavy will no longer be me.
It is in the dark of night When I drive in my car Speeding down west on the 118 Then hopping onto the 5 Which then merges unto the 101, Music blaring, The moonroof gaping open, The wind ushering in that cool air, The city lights of Los Angeles in the distance, Those small unremarkable specks of ember, Coke rap in full turnt, This is when I feel most uninhibited and free. The night rank of mischief and uncertainty. Long drawn out affairs of depression, Flashbacks of cringe, rejection and abandonment, Refine themselves with goblin glee. I am imperfect, I am flawed, Too passionate, Too lost.
GODSPEED Before you say farewell Godspeed Before you say you're well Godspeed Before you say anything Godspeed Speed is of the essence It is the core of getting things done There's grace in speed There's wonder in it May God be with you Godspeed.
Eternal Providence May they remember us May they bless us May they know that we cared That we dared Eternity is not promised For we are mere mortals Each carrying our burdens Not infallible, brimming in sin So let us embrace the sun Let us become one Eternal Providence.
Sacred is the Heart that lies within Pity is the feel of the man without The Lord Taketh The Lord Giveth All to his whim Sacred is the Heart that lies within That cadence, that rhythm And so it begins
Los Angeles birthed me. When I took off to college and made my way back, I remember standing on the rooftop of my dilapidated apartment across MacArthur Park looking at the crown jewel of lights that make up the small cluster of skyscrapers in Downtown. I would stare at these lights intently as the sun would draw to its end. I made a vow right then that this city was mine, that this kingdom would be had. That dream, that vision has never left me. Decades later, I still get feelings of warmth, determination and conviction when I look at those same lights. LA is a hard town. It absorbs and discards dreams for breakfast. It can be callous, it can be cold. Yet at its very best it can be exuberant, it can exhibit that raw nature of actual love. I love Los Angeles. I love my town. Los Angeles Por Vida. ____ Portrait by Justin Quebral
In God we trust In God we must In God over everything In God we lust Channel God be he or she My country 'tis of thee Channel me to be Channel me to see Channel me to live again Channel me believe In God In God In God we trust Channel me Believe
Country Road Here we go To a place Where we're alone Father Stone Father Stone To a land where he began Oklahoma, wide the plain Endless roads where Pickups reign Recant of Scripture Tales of Old Life in Wander Father Stone ----- Disclaimer: Music used in this recording is purely for creative aesthetic. I do not claim to share commercial value in this work.
Awaken the dawn Awaken the day Thank Helios Thank Vishnu Thank Mother Earth Heal Me Feel Me Allow me to partake in your wonders Lay me to rest Temper my ill wills Relieve me Transcend me Evergreen Evergreen
ANJALI —— Graphic Design by Monsterandom x RYK —— Poem & Music by RYK . She lives to live. She strives to strive. And that's ok. She sits alone in her room, her dreams wide and open. She smiles and cries alone. She sees the glimmer, the glint between the high trees. Glory soon come. Freedom: Ring Ring Ring She lives to live. She strives to strive. And that's ok.
Co-written by @sawyerkey and I. . Music saved my life and music continues to save my life. Here's a little somethin', an expression, a melody, a song.
They sit, feet flat, bended knee, body crouched, hands busy Old women working on the pier Turquoise rubber gloves, pink silk head wraps, yellowed straw bill They laugh and gossip, hawking their wares for passersby Wind restless, sun bright as they come A lovely day, a lovely day The old women of Pusan Generations of wisdom Generations of laughter I look at them in awe as if they are a mirage a memory of another era I wonder about their families I wonder what inside jokes they tell I am in wonder with the colors before me The dark blues, the prime greens, the neon yellows The vibrancy of my motherland The vibrancy of country Pusan Pusan Pusan
He wailed through the walls His dreams dark and menacing His eyes closed, his body thrashing I turned on the light and nudged his hand He wouldn’t awake I gently prodded him, asking if he was ok He remained quiet His body silent I wondered if he was alone If he was frightened A scared boy A scarred child My Father
Crickets in the calm. A gust of wind gently making its way down the Bayou. I hear your echoes, your laughter, your southern purr. I hope you’re doing well. I hope you found what you were looking for. I’m still here but stronger. My lust for life never listless. Crickets in the calm. Down by the Bayou.
The recent incidents regarding hate crimes against Asian Americans must cease. Undoubtedly this is a primal reaction from false propaganda. As a first born American citizen and a son of a US Army veteran, I consider myself American. I have traveled and lived in Asia, in times to further grasp my identity yet I find myself most comfortable in the States. Asian Americans comprise 6% of the populace, of which we have virtual zero representation within media, entertainment, and sports. In essence, we are considered an invisible people. It doesn’t help our cause that our upbringing within an Asian household is seeped in Confucian ideology encouraging filial piety and group think. However, I propose to you that this new generation; namely mine, is part of a new canon of a different ilk. We are the hybrids. We are educated and further more, we are defiant. Our parents are of the age where they are feeble and tender. When I witness these careless and crass exhibitions of violence, it saddens and enrages me. Far too often, we have been silenced and have been celebrated for our “silence,” I say no more. Please join me and others who look like me in solidarity to defend human rights and human decency. Empathy needs a calling like no other. America has such a sore definition as of late, let’s not add more salt to the wound. Oh and if you haven’t gotten the memo, if you’re looking to define American greatness and you’re looking to distinguish oneself as a proud American, you’re looking at it. We the 2.0, we the update, we are the living experiment of this democracy. We are America.
A live recording session. --- Poems recited by Rickey Kim Saxophone play by Jordan Vanhemert Moderated by Jess Mori
WEATHER MAN Winds coming from the North A storm is a brew Clouds gather in union Darkness ensues Day of Reckoning cometh Four Horsemen at the Tides Take Heed Cast Pride Open Nets Cast Wide Bring others with you Fight the Fine fight ‘cause ain’t no tellin’ When all we can do…is stay alive.
What is a dream? What is a nightmare? Why are we divided? Why are we here? At present, the world is changing. Revealing who we really are. Lonesome figures in space. Lost at sea. Searching for the gods. Searching for an answer. It is darkest before the dawn. Yet the dawn isn’t coming soon enough. This is a dream. This is a nightmare. Holdfast and awake. ———————— Poem by RYK Music by @MRD
Will they remember us? Will they remember that we were good and decent? Will they remember we created things? Beautiful things? Will they read our books and sing our songs? Will they know we laughed, that we loved? Will they? Will they know we fought and killed? That at times we were helpless and hapless? Will they know we cried? Will they know we prayed? Will they know we gave a damn? That we sought peace but we just couldn’t figure it out. Will they? ———————— Poem by RYK Music by @blackboygenie
Into the Darkness Into the Hole Off the grid Off we go I am my hero I am my foe Fight or Flight One way to go Into the Darkness Into the Hole May God Save us all For God only knows.
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